Memory
by Kate Summerfield
Summary: After missing the New Year's celebration, Yuki and Kyo are summoned to the main house and subjected to Akito's twisted punishments. Trapped together in the darkness, can Cat and Rat work together to escape? Or will they destroy each other first? [Y x K]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket is the copyrighted property of Natsuki Takaya and Hakusensha. No money was made in the creation or publication of this fic.

**Summary:** After missing the New Year's celebration, Yuki and Kyo are summoned to the main house and subjected to Akito's twisted punishments. **Rated M for adult content.

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**A Note On Vocabulary:** A few Japanese terms are used in this fic, most of which are probably well-known to Fruits Basket fans. However, for the sake of new readers (and viewers of the FB dub), here is a quick guide:

_Oi (oy) – Hey (casual)  
__Hai (hie) – Yes  
__Nezumi (neh-zoo-mee) – Rat  
__Neko (neh'-koh) – Cat  
__Kuso (koo-soh') – Damn (e.g., "Kuso nezumi!" "Damn rat!")  
__Baka (bah'-kah) – Stupid  
__-san (sahn) – an honorific; implies respect (e.g., "Honda-san" or "Akito-san")

* * *

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_**M e m o r y**_

by Kate Summerfield

-1-

He had forgotten something.

It was a slow, creeping sensation, like the rising of hairs on the back of his neck. It had been whispering through the dark corners of his mind for a week now, ever since…

Ever since he and Kyo had returned from main house.

Yuki felt his hands clench over the window sill, chipping white paint sticking to his palms. Downstairs, he could hear the sounds of Tohru tidying up after dinner—the scrape of dishes in the sink, the rush of water from the tap, the whine of ancient water pipes. Imagining Honda-san standing there at the sink, up to her elbows in warm, sudsy water, he felt his grip on the sill loosening. Strange, how the mere thought of her could soothe him these days.

"Oi."

He turned, startled, to find Kyo standing in his doorway, one arm leaning casually against the frame. Yuki opened his mouth to ask what the hell Kyo was doing in his bedroom, but the look on the other boy's face made the words catch in his throat.

"What is it?" he said instead.

Kyo's eyes flickered away from his, a hesitance that Yuki had thought was reserved strictly for Tohru. Kyo opened his mouth—

And shut it again.

"Never mind," he muttered, and was gone from the room before Yuki could decipher his expression. It wasn't until much later, when he sitting on the edge of his bed examining a cut he couldn't remember getting, that he realized.

It had been fear.

* * *

Kyo's eyes opened in the darkness. The blankets were tangled around his legs, and his skin prickled with cold sweat. 

He had been dreaming. Something about a small, cold room—being trapped. Not exactly something new in his nightmares, but no less disturbing for its familiarity. Kicking free of the blankets, he sat up and planted his bare feet on the floor, trying to calm his breathing. The white T-shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin as he moved, so he peeled it off and tossed it into the corner, shivering at the whisper of cool air on his chest.

He sat there for a few minutes, staring at the shadowy reflection of himself in the dresser mirror, then got to his feet and left the room.

The house was quiet. Down the hall, he could hear Shigure's soft snoring, the rustle of blankets from Yuki's room, the slow cadence of a clock.

He made his way downstairs.

He ended up in the kitchen, drinking milk out of the carton and helping himself to some leftovers. As he sat there in the darkness, chewing cold rice and propping his chin up on his hand, he found himself thinking back over the past week, trying to figure out what it was that felt so…wrong about it. Everything had been so normal—or, as normal as it ever got around here, anyway. He and Yuki snapping at each other, Tohru smiling and cooking and cleaning, Shigure making random inappropriate comments. Same as ever.

And then there was the weird stuff. The times he found himself glancing at Yuki out of the corner of his eye, or lingering inexplicably near his bedroom door, or opening his mouth to say something to him, something _so important_—and then forgetting what it was before he could form the words.

He shook his head and shoved another sticky clump of rice into his mouth.

Maybe he was going crazy. Or maybe…

Maybe something had happened last weekend. Something he wasn't supposed to remember.

He sighed and finished off the rice, the half-remembered whisper of Akito's voice curling like smoke through his mind.

* * *

_**One Week Earlier**_

"I don't see why we have to go together," Kyo barked, hands shoved deep into his pockets as they approached the main house. "Kuso nezumi," he added, for good measure.

Yuki's expression was as cool as ever, only a slight glint to his violet eyes showing his irritation. "I'm no happier about it than you are, baka neko," he returned calmly. His gaze stayed on the gates as they drew nearer, not even flickering in Kyo's direction. "And we're going together because Akito told Shigure that we should."

"Akito," Kyo muttered, kicking a stone loose from the driveway. He opened his mouth to add a few choice comments about Akito's parentage, but the words dried up in his throat. The main house loomed beyond the gates, silent and watching, and he had the sudden superstitious feeling that Akito could hear his every word.

He shook his head and mumbled something vague and insulting instead, and they walked in silence for awhile.

"Kyo…"

It was a moment before his mind connected the sound of his name with Yuki's voice. They were mere steps from the front gates now, and when he turned to look at the other boy, he found his jaw tight, his shoulders rigid.

"What?"

Yuki glanced at him, just for a moment, before returning his gaze to the gates. His voice was barely above a whisper. "This is probably about New Year's. Akito…isn't happy that we weren't there."

Kyo frowned. "Akito isn't happy _you_ weren't there, you mean."

"Then why are you here too, baka neko?"

Kyo could think of no answer to that, but it didn't matter—they had reached the gates. A man in a suit stared at them through the bars, his face expressionless behind dark sunglasses.

Kyo raised an eyebrow at him. "That outfit's kind of an overkill, don't you think?"

The man's expression didn't twitch. "Sohma Yuki," he said in a deep, flat voice. "Sohma Kyo. Akito is waiting."

For some reason, the words sent a tremor up Kyo's spine. Beside him, Yuki drew in a deep breath, as if filling his lungs before diving into deep water. "Hai," he said.

The gates slid open with a creak of old hinges, and together, they walked inside.

* * *

The room was cool, drafty. Kyo's neck was already aching from maintaining the bow for so long, but he didn't dare lift his head. Through the edge of his vision, he could see Akito lounging at the front of the room, a blur of colorful robes stretched over a pile of cushions. He wished for the hundredth time that he could've stayed home. 

Beside him, Yuki was still and silent, the model of perfect behavior as usual. Not wanting to be outdone, Kyo swallowed his impatience and forced himself to stay just as still, just as silent and respectful. After a time, Akito stood with a rustle of silken cloth.

"I appreciate the two of you coming to see me," he murmured. His voice was its usual sibilant whisper, soft and seductive with a hint of a smile pulling at the words. "Your lives are so busy these days… I'm honored that you could find time to visit me."

Yuki bowed lower. "Hai, Akito-san."

Kyo scowled, then imitated the move. "Hai, Akito-san," he muttered.

Akito made a soft sound, as of drawing a breath in surprise. "Ahh, such respect you show me. I could almost forget how disappointed I was when you didn't come to the New Year's celebration. I was so hoping you would come. Everyone here is very fond of you."

Kyo swallowed, feeling the sweat breaking out on his brow and hoping it didn't show. He felt so exposed, kneeling here with his forehead nearly to the floor, cold air tickling the back of his neck. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Abandoning the silent battle of wills, he sat up and faced the Head of the House of Sohma.

But Akito wasn't looking at him. He had moved to the window and was leaning against the sill, his face hidden by a spill of dark hair.

"It just goes to show," Akito mused. His fingers trailed against the window sill, dust staining his white skin. "Even someone who has been taught again and again the ways of respect can falter…dishonor himself and his family for childish, selfish reasons. Such behavior cannot be allowed in this—" Akito paused before drawing out his words like a razor slashing through silk. "—honorable family. What, then, would be a fitting way to correct such a fault…Yuki? How might the lesson be learned so it is never forgotten?"

His frown deepening, Kyo glanced over at Yuki—and froze.

Yuki was shaking. His hands were clenching and unclenching on the floor, his eyes wide with fear. In the silence of the room, the sudden harshness of his breathing was loud, grating.

Suddenly consumed with the need to _do_ something, Kyo turned angry eyes back to Akito. "If you're gonna yell at us, just do it," he growled. "Otherwise, we're going home."

Akito didn't respond for a long moment, scraping his fingernail against the sill until the paint flaked off and drifted to the floor like snow. Finally, he turned from the window. The corners of his lips twitched upwards as if in some private joke. "Isn't this your home?" he asked softly. "Weren't you born here? Didn't you grow up within these walls?" The smile twisted, growing hard and taunting. "You will both stay here this weekend. Here, in your home. And perhaps by the end of your stay, you will have learned what it means to be a Sohma."

Kyo exchanged a shocked glance with Yuki, but before he could open his mouth to protest, rough hands closed over his arms and dragged him to his feet.

"Hey! " he managed, trying to twist around to see his assailant. "What the— Akito!"

Yuki, he saw, was having the same trouble he was; a man in a dark suit had pinned his arms behind his back and was holding him in place. Not that Yuki was struggling, Kyo noticed with a scowl. The other boy was just standing there, looking weary and defeated with his head hanging down.

His attention snapped away from Yuki at the sound of slippers against the floor. He turned—

And reeled as Akito's palm slapped hard across his face. He struggled back to a standing position, blinking and tasting blood on his tongue.

Once he had straightened, Akito reached out and rested a hand on his stinging cheek, and with those dark eyes boring into him, Kyo didn't dare pull away.

"Such rudeness," Akito chided, and the smile was back in his voice. "I think you've been a bad influence on our Yuki." He let his fingertips slide over Kyo's face, tracing the curve of his jaw, the rise of his lips. "We'll have to remedy that, won't we, Kyo-kun?"

Kyo shivered.

Akito smiled and pulled away, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed the visitors from his presence.

* * *

"Why didn't you say anything back there, baka nezumi?" Kyo hissed. "You just stood there and took it." 

Yuki said nothing. He'd been doing that a lot lately, ever since Akito's thugs had shoved them in here over an hour ago. Feeling his claustrophobia rearing up again, Kyo cast an anxious glance at their surroundings. The room was small and cramped, the ceiling so low that he had to stoop when he stood up, the floor barely large enough for him to stretch out his legs. The only light came from a tiny slat in the door, just wide enough to fit his fingers through.

With a sigh, he leaned his head back against the wall and wondered how long Akito intended to keep them here. He finally decided that it was best not to think about it and closed his eyes, wondering what Tohru was doing back at the house. Maybe folding the laundry, humming softly to herself as she worked, or going through the pantry in search of something to make for lunch, or…

"He's not just going to keep us in here." Yuki's voice was so low it was almost unrecognizable.

Kyo opened his eyes to find the other boy sitting curled up in the corner, his head resting against the wall, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

Kyo frowned. "What do you mean?"

Yuki shook his head, and for a moment his eyes were dark and haunted. "I don't know what he's going to do this time. But he'll do it himself, and he won't be satisfied until…"

"What?" Kyo leaned forward, dread spreading icy fingers in his stomach. "Until what?"

Yuki turned his face away. His voice was a whisper, small and trembling. "Until he's proved that he owns you. Until...you'll do _anything_ to make him stop."

* * *

_**The Present**_

Yuki was dreaming. The world was a tiny place, four stone walls and a low voice in the darkness. Then there was warmth, touch—rough lips on his own, a hand catching in his hair. Yes. _Yes_. Anything to push back the darkness, anything to make the walls fade for just a little while…

Hard, hungry kisses, a soft and needy sound sliding from his own lips—answered by a growl, a purr. Wanting him. Needing his touch. He obliged by instinct more than thought, tearing free buttons and then sliding his hands over smooth, warm skin, feeling out the ridges of muscle and ribs, the curve of broad shoulders. Need burned through him, making him feel shaky and overheated, but through the darkness he found the glimmer of dark eyes and locked onto them, needing to see, _know_…

The eyes stared back, and for a moment the only sound was the harsh rhythm of breathing. Then he felt the press of a warm hand under his shirt, callused fingers trailing over the soft expanse of his stomach. The eyes were dark and full, heavy with desire. He felt himself nod, his breath catching in anticipation.

The warm touch slid down, slowly, trembling—

He sucked in a breath, eyes going half-closed as strong fingers closed over him, capturing him in a tight, heated grip. They slid along his length, curling more fully around him as they moved, then dragged back down again with a slow, careful friction. Yuki let out a shuddering breath. The motion continued for a few seconds, building in strength and speed…

Then he felt himself being pushed down, onto his back. "What—" he managed.

The only answer was a whisper of hot breath against him and then, impossibly, the slide of warm, moist lips over his flesh.

Later, in a haze of fading sensation: "Why?" His own voice, gasping in the darkness. "Why did you do that?"

"Maybe…I wanted to win over you, just once."

The smile was a slash of white below glittering eyes.

"Baka nezumi."

* * *

Yuki snapped awake with a choked breath, and for a long time lay panting in his bed, staring with wide eyes at the ceiling. 


	2. Chapter 2

-2-

_**One Week Earlier**_

The worst thing, Kyo decided, was that there wasn't enough room to pace. His muscles twitched with pent-up energy, begging for him to get up, move around, _run_—but there just wasn't room for it. How many hours had they been stuck in here? When was someone going to come by with food, water? His throat was dry, his stomach making feeble protests at how long it had been since breakfast.

Someone _was_ going to come. Right?

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He got to his feet, stooping to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling, and began a pacing circuit of the room. Around…around…around… Before long, the tight circle of his steps had his head swimming with dizziness, but he ignored it. He walked faster, his sneakers slapping loudly against the stone, jogging now, almost running—

A foot lanced out and caught his ankle, and he hit the ground hard, sprawling face-first on the floor. He lay there in pain for a second, catching his breath and fighting the urge to groan, then spun around to face Yuki.

"What the hell'd you do that for?" he roared. "Kuso nezumi! If you wanna fight, at least fight fair!"

Yuki stared at him calmly, and Kyo realized that this was the first time he'd seen Yuki looking calm since they'd been stuffed in here hours ago. "Maybe we _should_ fight," he said mildly. "If I knocked you unconscious, at least then you'd stay still for five minutes."

"Go ahead and try it, baka nezumi!"

"Maybe I will, baka neko! It would be worth it just to have some peace and quiet!"

"The only peace and quiet we'll have is _yours_, when I knock your head into the wall!"

"What kind of a stupid comeback was that?"

"Shut the hell up! I have all the comebacks I need here in my fists!"

"Hai, hai. Then stop talking and fight."

"I will!" Kyo barked, and stomp-crawled over to where Yuki was sitting. Fists bared in front of him, he settled into a fighting stance on his knees and watched as Yuki did the same.

They faced each other in silence for a moment, glaring and waiting for the first move. Finally, Kyo shuffled forward and lanced out with a fist. Yuki ducked the punch easily, and countered with a blow to the ribs that sent Kyo toppling to the side. He didn't fall far before hitting into the wall, and by the time he'd recovered from the impact, Yuki was right there in front of him, aiming a punch at his face.

"Not this time, kuso nezumi!" he snarled, and knocked the blow aside with the flat of his hand. His other hand came up at the same time, slamming towards Yuki's jaw—but Yuki dodged at the last second, leaving Kyo's fist to thud painfully into the wall. The speed of the move overbalanced Yuki, however, and he fell, cracking his head against the wall and then landing on his back on the floor. Kyo was swinging back for another blow when Yuki's legs scissored out and shoved his knees out from under him. Kyo toppled forward—

And found himself sprawled on top of Yuki in an exhausted, panting heap. At first, he could do nothing but lie there, breathing hard with exertion and pain and feeling the quickened rise of Yuki's chest against him. Finally, he managed to summon enough strength to pick himself up, but he didn't get far; the next several minutes found him lying on his back next to his rival, both of them gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling.

"Rematch," Kyo panted, "once we're out of here."

Yuki glanced over at him, his eyes a glimmer of violet in the dim lighting. "Hai."

After a time, Yuki crawled into a sitting position and leaned his head back against the wall, wincing briefly as his bruised skull touched the stone. Not wanting to look like he needed longer to recover, Kyo heaved himself into a similar position and stretched out his legs. His ribs ached, pain lancing through him with every breath, but he told himself he'd had worse and tried to ignore it.

And really, even with the pain in his chest, he had to admit that he felt good. His muscles no longer felt cramped and underused, and the fight had seemed to burn off a lot of his nervous energy. Even the hunger was easier to bear now, as if his body had gotten the idea that this was a contest—beat Yuki at all costs. Handle the pain, ride out the hunger, push away the claustrophobia—out-cool Prince Baka Nezumi in every category. Come out of this as The Winner, the one who held it together, the one who faced down Akito's twisted punishments and came out still grinning and strong.

Yeah. That was how it'd be. Kyo emerges victorious at last, and leaves poor girly-faced Yuki crying and sniveling in the corner.

Kyo grinned and closed his eyes, the world feeling right for the first time in hours.

* * *

_**The Present**_

It wasn't a large cut, just a thin slash of red near the joint of his thumb, ugly and healing. He found his eyes seeking it out again and again, the thumb of his other hand tracing back and forth across its length. He just couldn't seem to leave it alone.

But that was all right, because it gave him something to focus on. Something to think about that wasn't…

_Kyo._

He shook his head violently, denying it, caught between anger, confusion, and the shaking urge to vomit. And he _would_ deny it, because it wasn't true. It _couldn't_ be true. He couldn't believe that he would _ever_ do something like that with—he shuddered and shook his head again—and so of course the dream was nothing more than that: just a dream.

But no, that wasn't right, either. For him to dream about it would imply that some part of him wanted it, and he most definitely certainly vehemently did _not_. Not with Kyo. Not ever.

Yuki sat up and pressed his hands over his face, squeezing his palms over his eyes as if to blot out the images. He had to stop thinking about this. He had to stop…remembering it, because the dream was so searingly vivid that he could almost feel the slide of rough fingers against his skin, the hungry press of Kyo's mouth on his…

_NO!_ _STOP IT!_

He leaped from the bed, his face burning with shame as his body reacted to the memory. Stumbling steps took him down the hall and into the bathroom, where he sank to his knees and closed the door.

He ended up lying on the floor with his arms over his stomach, the tiles cold under his cheek.

* * *

_**One Week Earlier**_

Kyo was dozing when the door opened, and spent a moment squinting into the light before he realized what it meant. He leaped to his feet, determined to fight his way out that door no matter what—

Stars flashed in front of his eyes as his head connected with the low ceiling. He spent a moment hovering there half-upright, his ears ringing with the force of the blow—and then he crumpled to the floor and lay still, breathing shallowly and trying not to throw up.

Dimly, he heard the rumble of a voice from the doorway, then the softer sound of Yuki's reply. Something metallic scraped against the floor…and then the door swung shut, leaving him lying in the darkness with no escape.

The only thing that kept him from crying out in misery was the thought of Yuki sitting there behind him, watching. Waiting for him to fall apart. So instead he just lay there, weathering the gnawing ripples of pain and waiting for his stomach to stop churning. After a time, he heard a rustle of movement from behind him.

"That was stupid," Yuki said quietly.

Kyo turned his head with an effort and found Yuki sitting just a few inches away from him, his hands folded over one knee.

"Shut up, kuso nezumi," he managed, but his voice sound wrong, weak and strangled. He cleared his throat and tried to summon the strength to get up.

A firm hand pressed against his shoulder, keeping him down.

"Baka," Yuki sighed. "Just lie there for awhile. You probably gave yourself a concussion."

"I'm fine," Kyo muttered, and heaved himself up from the floor. The room started to spin, but he gritted his teeth and forced his way through it, and after awhile managed to drag himself over to the wall and lean his back against it.

Yuki shook his head and turned away, crawling forward to examine the tray the guard had left by the door. On it was a small jug—water, Kyo figured—and a few pieces of bread and cheese.

He snorted. "Bread and water. Just like in those stupid prison movies."

Yuki gave him a cool glance. "If you don't want it, I'm sure we can ask the guard to take it back."

Kyo muttered something and looked away, wishing his ears would stop ringing. Made it so damn hard to concentrate…

"Here." Suddenly Yuki was right there in front of him, holding out a chunk of bread.

He shook his head, the mere sight of the food enough to start his stomach churning again.

Yuki, he found, was watching him closely, studying him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Damn it, he was losing again! With a growl, he snatched the bread from Yuki's hand and shoved it into his mouth.

Yuki frowned at him. "Don't force yourself."

"I'm not," he mumbled around the mouthful. "And I don't need some baka nezumi telling me what to do."

"Fine," Yuki said coolly, and crawled back to the tray to eat.

Kyo closed his eyes and held in a groan, swallowing the last of the bread even though it was dry and heavy in his mouth. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, leaning his head against the wall and fighting back the nausea, but suddenly the door creaked open again and the guard stepped inside.

The man didn't say a word, just stood there staring at Yuki. Yuki stared back, looking confused—and then something changed in his face and he slid backwards, away from the door and the guard's level stare.

"No," he whispered. His voice was hoarse, his eyes wide and panicked. "No…please…"

The guard lumbered forward and grabbed Yuki's arm, as if to drag him from the room, but Yuki struggled against the grip, kicking and punching, arms and legs flailing.

Kyo watched, confused and a little afraid. What was happening? Why wasn't Yuki fighting like he normally did, all calm features and smooth, certain movements?

The guard's voice boomed in the close quarters of the room, breaking into his thoughts. "You'll only make it worse if you fight."

Kyo found himself crawling forward, something cold and angry clenching in his chest. "Make what worse?" he demanded, coming up behind the man. "What's going on? Where are you taking him?"

Yuki was finally still, sitting there with his breath coming harshly, his arm still captured in the big man's grip. His eyes flickered over to meet Kyo's for just an instant, and Kyo felt his mouth go dry. He had never seen Yuki's eyes like this. Helpless. Scared.

A fierce surge of _something_ welled up inside of him, and before he knew what he was doing, he'd launched himself forward and slammed into the guard's knees, knocking him off his feet. Then, before the man could pick himself up, Kyo grabbed Yuki's wrist and pulled him out of the room, slamming the heavy door behind them.

The sound of it crashing shut jarred him out of whatever inexplicable emotions had seized him, and he let go of Yuki's wrist as if he'd been burned.

"Come on, kuso nezumi," he muttered. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Yuki just stared at him. Then there came the sound of heavy fists pounding on the other side of the door and he snapped out of his daze, blinking and shaking his head. "Hai," he managed. "Let's go."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

-3-

_**The Present**_

Kyo found himself lingering at the top of the stairs, arms hanging loose at his sides, his back pressing against the wall. He should go back to bed, he told himself—get some sleep. Maybe he'd even be lucky enough not to have any more dreams.

Instead he started down the hallway, his bare feet making sticky noises on the floor—heading for Yuki's room. Why? What did he need to say? What was so important? He shook his head and forced himself to stop, to reconsider—to turn around and head back to his own room.

He only made it halfway there before he heard the sound of a low moan from the bathroom.

He didn't move for a long time, standing there with his eyes fixed on the golden strip of light under the door, listening. The sound was not repeated. Finally, he sighed and wrapped his hand around the knob.

Yuki was lying on the floor, curled up on the bath mat with his head pillowed on his arm. His eyes were closed. Asleep? His face was pale, his cheeks flushed. Before he knew what he was doing, Kyo was kneeling on the floor and pressing the back of his hand to Yuki's forehead. Yuki shifted a bit at the touch, murmuring something, and Kyo leaped back so quickly that he banged his head on the towel rack.

Cursing, he got to his feet and stomped out of the room, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking. What Yuki did in the middle of the night was his own damn business; if he wanted to sleep on the floor of the bathroom, fine! He didn't give a damn. Let the baka nezumi freeze to death.

Soon he was back in the safety of his own room, still scowling and muttering under his breath. He was still cursing as he ripped the top blanket from his bed, stomped back out into the hallway, and tossed the warm covering onto Yuki's back. The trail of obscenities led back to his bedroom then, where he slammed the door shut and crawled into bed.

* * *

_**One Week Earlier**_

Kyo leaned his head miserably against the wall, trying again to stem the flow of blood from his nose. The tray of food had been gone when he woke up in here, so he was hungry as well as being cold and in pain. And he couldn't help thinking how quiet and empty the room seemed now that he was its only occupant.

Akito had been waiting for them at the top of the stairs, looking young and harmless in a tailored dark suit. "Did you really think you could get away?" he'd asked, smiling at them like a predator about to lunge in for the kill.

Kyo had spun around, ready to sprint back down the hallway and find another way out, but three of Akito's men waited behind him, a silent barrier of muscle blocking his exit. He faced front again, helplessly—and found Akito standing on the step above him, his pale features twisted in anger. Kyo steeled himself, expecting to be slapped again—and that was when Akito grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face into the wall.

He wasn't sure when he'd passed out. The moments seemed to melt together. One moment he'd been lying at the foot of the stairs, blood on his lips and the distant sound of Yuki's voice in his ears, and the next…

The next he was here. Alone.

Kyo swallowed hard and reminded himself to breathe.

That had been…how long ago now? An hour? Two? He'd lost track. All he knew was that the room was too small and there was no one to see if he fell apart—no one to listen to the sharp, panicked sound of his breathing, or see him wrapping his arms around himself and squeezing his body into the corner. No one to notice the embarrassing dampness on his cheeks.

And this was what it was going to be like, wasn't it? When they locked him up. It was going to be just him, just him alone in a tiny room…trapped. Forever.

With a strangled cry, he slammed his fist into the wall. The flash of pain grounded him somewhat, giving him something solid and tangible to focus on—something that let him return to this moment, this problem, and stop dwelling on the terrors of his future. He was just struggling to calm his breathing, taking in long, slow pulls of air, when the door swung silently open.

Kyo swiped a hand over his face, wiping away the lingering tears and blood, and tried not to look too hopeful.

When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a bulky figure entering the room—the guard they'd locked in here. Yuki was half-collapsed in his grasp, limp legs trailing along the floor, head hanging down so his eyes were lost under a fringe of dark hair.

Kyo could only stare as the guard smirked, then stepped back and let Yuki crumple to the floor. Like a doll. A body.

The door swung shut.

Letting out a shaking breath, Kyo crawled slowly forwards. Yuki didn't move as he approached, lying there with his cheek against the floor, lifeless but for the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

It wasn't until he knelt by Yuki's side that he saw the welts. Long, angry slashes of red marked his arms, and a peek under the dark tunic showed the same brutal pattern on his chest, his back, his shoulders.

Kyo found himself staring at the marks with wide eyes, a thousand half-remembered clues converging in his brain.

_Was this what you were so afraid of? Was this what he did to you…when you were a child?_

He felt suddenly sick and pushed back until his shoulder blades hit the wall, until he could lean his head back and close his eyes and pretend he was somewhere else.

He'd never known hatred like this. It curled and clenched inside of him, spreading searing fingers through his chest, making him want to leap to his feet and _do_ something, tear something apart, break something with his bare hands. Smash his fist into Akito's face.

He imagined it with a cold, malicious satisfaction. The crack of bone under his knuckles, the pained cry as Akito fell…

He sighed and let his head drop, his shoulders slumping.

No. He didn't want that. He didn't want to inflict any more pain, not even on Akito.

_I'm not a monster!_

His head fell into his hands, resting in the cradle of his palms. God, he was tired. How much longer were they going to be trapped in here?

He was still sitting like that when there was a rustle of movement from the middle of the floor. He opened his eyes to see Yuki struggling into a sitting position, his movements slow and wincing, his face a mask of pain. He didn't make a sound as he sat up, but the silence was almost worse. To have to control it so rigidly, to keep such a tight lid on the pain…

Kyo cleared his throat, feeling suddenly awkward. "Uh…are you…?"

Yuki glanced at him in surprise, but the sudden movement must have hurt, because he winced. Then he nodded, very slowly. "Hai," he said quietly. He looked around the room for a moment. "Never thought I'd be glad to be back in here," he whispered.

Kyo approximated a grin. "Yeah, tell me about it. I never thought I'd be so glad to see—" He broke off, clearing his throat again. "—this, uh…this room again. Either."

He fished around in his brain for something else to say, something that would make everything feel normal again, but Yuki spoke before he could come up with anything.

"You shouldn't have done that. Attacked the guard. He was right—fighting back only makes it worse."

"You know," Kyo growled, "Akito's not _God_, even if he thinks he is. Just 'cause he's in charge doesn't mean we have to do every goddamn thing he says. Did you ever think that maybe if you actually stood up to him, he'd stop beating the hell out of you every chance he gets?"

Yuki looked over at him, a bitter, mirthless smile on his face. "Oh? That would solve everything, if I stood up to Akito?"

Kyo shifted uncomfortably, something about the expression chilling him. "You could at least give it a try," he muttered.

Suddenly Yuki was right there in front of him, his face mere inches from Kyo's own, his hands pressing into the wall on either side of Kyo's head. "I _have_ tried," he hissed. "Baka neko, you think everything's so simple. What do you know about Akito? About _suffering?_"

"What do _I_ know about suffering?" he heard himself echo. His voice was strangely soft, trembling with restrained rage. "You've gotta be kidding. _You've_ suffered? You've had it easy, everybody cooing over you and coddling you and _worshipping_ you. Poor Yuki, adored by everybody. Talk to me about suffering when your own mother looks at you like you're a monster, because you _are_. Or when everybody around you whispers and laughs behind your back, and looks at you like you're not human at all, like you're just some…some _creature_ wearing a human skin. Or when you have to go through every fucking day knowing that they're going to lock you up, that you're going to be stuck alone in a cell for the rest of your life and nothing you say or do will ever make them let you out again!"

He was shaking, he realized. Shaking because everything he'd just said was true, and hearing it coming out of his own mouth made it abruptly, terrifyingly real.

And suddenly he was _so_ _angry_. Angry at Yuki for being the perpetual Golden Child when he himself was spit on and shunned. Angry at Yuki for being smart and talented and disgustingly _perfect_, for being the one everyone listened to and respected. But most of all, for being here and making him say these things, making him wrench his deepest fears from the shadows and expose them to the light.

He sprang forward with a roar, knocking Yuki onto his back and pinning him to the ground.

Yuki cried out as he hit the floor and Kyo's weight settled on top of him, but his expression was all fury and hatred. "Get off of me, baka neko!"

"_Make_ me," Kyo snarled. "What's the matter, you stupid wimpy rat? Akito smacked you around a little and now you can't fight?"

Yuki let out an enraged shout and snapped up his hands, knocking aside the arms that pinned him in place. Kyo toppled forward, struggling to keep his balance—and suddenly he was staring up at the ceiling with Yuki sitting on his chest, his wrists locked above his head in an iron grip.

"_I'm_ the one who's liked by everyone?" Yuki shouted, his voice almost unrecognizable in its rage. "You come shoving your way into my life, into my school, and within a day, you make more friends than I've had in my entire _life_. You can say whatever you want, be rude and unpleasant and everyone loves you for it! _Honda-san_ loves you for it!" Something crumpled in his face, and he suddenly looked tired and small. "What does it matter if people _worship_ and _respect_ me?" he whispered. "It's you they love."

The breath seemed caught somewhere between his throat and his lungs. For a long moment, all he could do was lie there and stare up at Yuki, seeing for the first time the loneliness etched in his perfect features, the well of self-loathing in his eyes.

Before he could figure out what to say, Yuki let out a weary breath and let his head hang down, his grip on Kyo's wrists loosening. "It's easy to hate you," he murmured, and although he could have broken free, Kyo found himself staying where he was, lying there with Yuki's weight pressing down on him. "It's _better_ to hate you. Then I don't…I don't want what you have as much. Then I'm not so…jealous of you."

Yuki? Jealous? Of _him?_

He couldn't help it; he laughed. At Yuki's angry, confused look, he shook his head. "It's just…it's just so…_stupid_," he managed. "You have everything I could ever… You have _everything_. And you want what _I_ have?" He laughed again, surprised at how good it felt.

"What about you?" Yuki asked with a roll of his eyes. "Baka neko. Trying so hard to be a part of this twisted family. You're lucky to be out of it."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure I'll feel really lucky when they lock me away."

"At least you'll have had eighteen years of being free," Yuki said quietly. "I've had none."

While the words were still echoing in his ears, Yuki moved silently off of him and went to sit in the corner.

Kyo lay there on his back for awhile, staring at the ceiling with a thousand conflicting thoughts spinning through his mind. Finally, he sighed and sat up, and with only a moment of hesitation, crawled over to sit next to Yuki. They sat in silence for a time. Then Yuki glanced over at him, and for once, there was none of that cool, distant anger in his expression.

"Your troubles won't end if you're accepted into the zodiac, you know. As it is now, you can do what you want, say what you want—and even though Akito has some hold over you, he doesn't _own_ you. You can be free."

Kyo shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "I'm not free. Not with this always hanging over my head. You'd think it'd make me appreciate stuff more—enjoy it while I have it or something. But it just makes everything seem more pointless. I mean, why even let me go to school? Why let me go through all this, make friends, have a life…when it's just going to be taken away?"

Her face flashed in front of his eyes, big blue eyes and a soft, happy smile, and something deep in his chest began to ache.

He shook his head again and sighed, wondering what the world had come to, cat confiding in rat—rat looking on with an interested, sympathetic expression. Like he understood.

Like they were friends.

With an effort, he shook himself and got to his feet, careful not to hit his head on the ceiling again. "I'm gonna try to get some sleep," he said, and retreated to the opposite corner. "Wake me up if anything interesting happens."

Yuki made a vague noise of agreement, and Kyo curled up on the floor, pillowing his head on his arm. He expected to lie awake for awhile—despite how long it seemed like they'd been in here, it couldn't be much later than nine or ten at night. But before he knew it, he was drifting, fading…

And then the nightmares came.

* * *


End file.
